


A Glimpse

by Angeleyes1uk1



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 08:30:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17240924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angeleyes1uk1/pseuds/Angeleyes1uk1
Summary: Reylo. Set after The Last Jedi. They can't see each other's surroundings, only each other. What happens when there's a mirror?





	A Glimpse

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on Tumblr and FF.

I am in the process of shaving when I feel a surge in the Force building. I take a deep breath before she appears but cannot help but feel a thrill as I remember the last time she caught me in a state of semi undress.

This time instead of my leather pants she has caught me only wearing underwear, snug black briefs. Through my deep state of self loathing I do still recognise that I am in good shape, and the time she caught me shirtless certainly caught Rey's attention. I thank the Force for giving me the chance to see more of what she is missing. I want her to see me. I want her to want me.

I turn and expect a request to cover up but instead I am met with a scream.

For a moment I am stunned. Everything but my eyes is paralysed as I look her up and down. She is naked. Wet and naked, as her hands rush to obscure her most personal areas from view. She must be in the fresher.

"Turn around!" She manages to stutter.

I come to my senses and immediately comply. "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting—"

I fall silent again. I look into the mirror I was using to shave.

I see Rey taking a moment to compose herself, then she looks in my general direction. I expect her eyes to meet mine in the mirror and to be caught staring again, but our gaze does not meet.

"Don't turn around," she says with a gentle warning tone.

"I won't. I promise." I feel guilt weighing heavy as I don't need to turn from this vantage point. My attention is fixed ahead at her reflection. Shame makes me glance away very briefly but then I cannot resist as my mind begins to process what it has seen—the swell of her breasts and perky pink nipples, her slim waist made strong with a flat muscular stomach, leading down to a triangle of soft brown curls. My black briefs become uncomfortably tight.

"I-" I am about to admit that I can see her but she tentatively removes her hand from her groin and her forearm away from her breasts. My willpower crumbles. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay; we have no control over when it happens." She looks at the back of me. "I suppose I owed you one after I caught you shirtless." Her gaze drops and slowly climbs my entire body. She takes her time thinking I can't see the way she focuses on me. My ego swells. "It's not as if you're fully dressed either."

"I'm wearing more than you are."

A frown creases between her brows. "That's not helping."

I am torn between absolute mortification and excitement as I begin soaping myself. I've spent many sleepless nights thinking about him, chiding myself for wanting more contact while at the same time torturing myself with thoughts of 'what if?'

And here he is in front of me, wearing those tight black underpants with firm buttocks that I get an unusual urge to squeeze, hard. I imagine how they would feel in my hand. I cannot help but observe the way his long legs end in thick, powerful looking thighs—thighs that I have touched in real life. His back, defined and broadening into shoulders that I know are used to carrying the weight of the galaxy.

I chew on my lip, close my eyes, and wait for a wave of arousal to finish its roll up my entire body.

He remains with his back to me, true to his word. Part of me is proud of him, another side is disappointed—the side of me that wants him to scoop me up and ravage me here and now, just like the dreams that wake me panting in the middle of the nights when I do manage to drift into sleep.

When I am with him I feel complete. I am hopelessly his, but we are separated by war and ideology, and I can't let him know my weakness for him. I went to him once and failed. I know now I can't change him. He has to want to change for himself.

But still, temptation comes in such lovely packaging.

Secure in the knowledge that he is facing the other way I run a hand up over my stomach, cupping and squeezing my own breast. My mind runs away with itself.

He takes a deep breath and I freeze. He continues looking the other way. I am safe. The danger thrills me even more. This time my fingers travel with beads of water between my bare breasts, lower, lower. I skim my hip and enjoy the feeling of my finger tips up over my thigh. I would prefer it to be his. My eyes close and my mouth parts.

He is here in this room with me. All I would have to do was invite him to touch. He wants to, I know this. I am not blind to the way men look at girls they want. It just happens that this is the first man I've wanted to look at me like that.

I sense the arousal and conflict in him. Does he know what I'm doing, or is he just thinking about me showering and what he has already seen? I start to feel uneasy about him sensing what I'm feeling right now, but my excitement is starting to override rational thought as I touch myself in ways I've only ever done in complete privacy.

I want him to be so driven wild with desire that he will end the First Order, end the war, give up it all just to be with me. But then I know that is not going to happen. I'm just a Scavenger from Jakku, once a nobody, with no idea of her family name. At least now I have made a place for myself as Rey of Jakku, the last Jedi.

I don't want to be the last, I think as I run my thumb over my lip. I want to start a line of my own, with the former Jedi here in the room with me now. A primeval urge within me has made me think about what children I could have with him. More often I have thought about how much I would enjoy making them.

"Rey?"

I hesitate before replying, in a voice huskier and much more wanton than my own. "Come here."

I feel nervous as he slowly turns. His eyes are black, his mouth open in an expression that can only be described as 'in awe'. I swallow apprehensively but with utter need as I see the strange large protrusion in his black pants.

He closes the distance between us and joins me...


End file.
